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Chapter 15 - A boy named Lu Changsheng

In the Azure World, where verdant hills met sprawling skies and brilliant sunsets bathed the land in hues of fire, there lay a small, unassuming village known as Eldergrove. Here, the air was filled with the scent of blossoms, and laughter mingled with the murmur of the nearby river. Yet, beyond the picturesque facade, Eldergrove was home to Lu Changsheng—a boy with secrets as deep as the tides of the ocean.

Lu Changsheng was a coward by the standards of most villagers. While others might have tackled the wild beasts that prowled the woods or defended themselves against the thieves that sometimes swept through, he preferred to huddle in the shadows, feigning ignorance, letting his timid demeanor disarm their intentions. The villagers might call him foolish, but beneath the surface, he harbored a ferocious strength—a mind sharp as a blade, where strategies and plots twirled like autumn leaves before a gathering storm.

The truth of his lineage had long been buried in the silt of memory. His father, a formidable presence in the higher dominion known as the Chaos Realm, had left him to fend for himself in this lesser world, leaving behind only a shroud of mystery. Unbeknownst to Changsheng, he bore the blood of the Heavenly Emperor—a legacy he would one day wield.

It was during an uneventful afternoon, while hiding behind the old barn from the village bullies, that Changsheng stumbled upon a glimmer of wisdom buried within the recesses of his mind. He had always thought himself aimless, a simple trickster lost amidst laughter and mockery. But as he peered deeper, ancient teachings flooded him like a rushing river, revealing the secrets of Qi cultivation. Intrigued, he began to weave the delicate threads of his newfound knowledge into his daily life.

Days turned to weeks, and Changsheng honed his skills in secrecy. Under the pretense of being dim-witted, he cultivated his Qi when others slept. He learned to move with the softness of shadows, to become a whisper on the breath of the breeze. In the larger scheme of things, Lu Changsheng was a coward, but he reveled in that cowardice. It allowed him to survive while gathering wisdom like pearls of sun-drenched oyster shells.

It was not long before he attracted both friends and enemies. His closest companion was Mei-Ling, a spirited girl with hair like woven silk and a will that could bring empires to their knees. In the evenings, they would practice together in the secluded glades, laughing at their own foolishness while the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with strokes of amber. She thought of him as a soft-hearted solider in an imagined battle—her Knight of Clouds, a protector in her daydreams.

However, the cycle of mischief attracted the ire of the local ruffians led by a boy named Qiang—a boastful hothead whose physical strength belied a mind incapable of cleverness. After a series of humiliating tricks played on him, Changsheng became the target of their vendetta. It began with small nuisances: mud splattered on his clothes, a fruit flung at his head. He endured it all, each incident further feed their growing hunger for vengeance.

In retaliation, Changsheng crafted a plan that smoldered quietly within him. One crisp morning, as dawn broke and bathed the landscape in hues of gold, he invited Qiang and his gang to the nearby Whispering Woods under the guise of wanting to make amends. Underneath the pretense of peace, he had hidden sharpened sticks disguised as walking staffs and a false signal to trigger an avalanche of fallen trees.

When they arrived, the ruffians laughed at the "coward" who dared to entrap them. Changsheng, trembling on the surface, charmed them with words that dripped like honey. Yet when Qiang lunged at him, fueled by arrogance, Changsheng deftly sidestepped, letting the hidden mechanism release its weight, so that chaos reigned. The thundering crash of trees falling sent the gang into a wild scramble that ended in crushed egos—and bruised limbs.

In his heart, he felt no remorse; these were the same boys who had sought to crush his spirit. As they fled, their yells echoing through the woods, Changsheng leaned against a tree, breathless but victorious. It was in this moment of triumph that he realized a core part of his being had shifted. His cowardly façade had served him well, both to draw in those who would be allies and to cast a shadow over animosity.

But karma wove in and out as fate dictated. One evening, with the moon a sliver of ivory in the night sky, betrayal struck from an unexpected quarter. Mei-Ling had gathered rumors—there were whispers of a pact between Qiang and a formidable sorceress who had promised power for revenge. Shock and dismay clouded Changsheng's heart as betrayal often does. He had thought their friendship was stronger than that.

Confrontation was inevitable. That very night, against the backdrop of a storm raging in the heavens, he found himself standing on the edge of the glade where they once practiced, his heart heavy with disbelief. Mei-Ling stood before him, her expression a tempest of conflict.

"I had to," she whispered, tears shimmering in her eyes. "You don't understand what forces you're toying with."

"I thought you were my friend!" he shot back, rage bubbling beneath the gallant facade.

"I am! But Qiang is blind in his rage. You've made a powerful enemy."

In the throes of betrayal, Lu Changsheng felt a fracture in his heart, yet clarity arose. His cowardice had allowed him to gather knowledge, but his heart needed to cherish love as a weapon. He chose mercy, asking her to seek refuge with him and join forces, to outsmart their foes together. 

They chose to rely on their wits rather than brute force, deceiving Qiang and his cohort into believing they were weak, leading them into traps that showcased their intelligence. During this elaborate game of strategy, trust was reforged, and Changsheng came to understand the depth of his emotions.

In the throes of their battles, both in the arena and their hearts, love blossomed—tender and fierce, a fire that warmed the shadows. It was in these moments that Mei-Ling found herself drawn to Changsheng not as the cowardly boy but as a brilliant tactician, a partner whose heart beat in time with her own.

In the years that followed, whispers of Lu Changsheng's exploits spread across the realms. Legends unfurled, telling tales of the boy who was once underestimated but became a cunning strategist, an eternal protector of Eldergrove, and perhaps the most unexpected champion of his world.

Little did they know, a far greater destiny awaited him—the echoes of his father's legacy resting just beyond the horizon, in the vast expanse of the Chaos Realm. And someday, Lu Changsheng would understand that he was destined for greatness not just as the coward who had outsmarted his enemies, but as a son born from celestial blood, ready to seize his birthright. In this dance of fate and cunning, he stood on the precipice of awakening, his heart swelling with power both new and ancient, driven by the bond of love and the truth of his lineage.